Mirror of Souls
by xcd
Summary: He was prepared to do anything to outrank the infamous Flame Alchemist and finally get the recognition he deserved. Lucky for him, the Fuhrer needed only one information to raise him up to top brass: the truth behind Edward Elric's brother.


**Summary: **He was prepared to do anything to outrank the infamous Flame Alchemist and finally get the recognition he deserved. Lucky for him, the Fuhrer needed only one information to raise him up to top brass: the truth behind Edward Elric's brother.

**Pairings: **Roy/Ed(?), Al/Winry, Riza/Havoc, some RoyxOC

**Warning: **Lots of cursing, blood and gore, descriptive violence, torture…including the dreaded OC. (Oh snap...he's bringing in an OC! Everyone, hide!!)

**Author's Note:** I know that most people cringe at the mere thought of a story with an OC. I'm guessing my story will cause a grand mal-seizure for someone out there seeing as how I have more than one of them. Worry not, though, because I swear that in my universe, any Mary Sue's or Gary Stu's that are left frolicking around in a bed of roses will be shot and promptly buried in an unmarked grave.

**IMPORTANT!** I so desperately need someone to proof-read my work. If you are interested [in being my proof-reader, I mean ;) ] just PM me. I'm looking for someone who's specially good at punctuations.

**Disclaimer:** One day, when dogs fly and skunks stop smelling like burnt diapers, I will own the brilliance that is Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

**Mirror of Souls**

**Chapter 1**

_Pawns_

Time slowly slipped away as the General-to-be Roy Mustang continued on his grueling task. Needless to say, he did not sign up for being a soldier, a state alchemist at that, just to scrawl his signature over unending mounds of paper that will end up as trash in the Fuhrer's office anyway. Riza Hawkeye claimed the opposite.

She said that paperwork was an absolute "must". More often than not she forced him to stay late at night or come in early to keep on signing those horrible papers, stating that it won't sign itself. He agreed on that part, but Riza had him lost on "signing them himself". The woman had her own devious ways that can really force you into doing something even without the help of her gun. Yes, she had a shiny gun that she used whenever he was slacking.

He actually found it funny when he thought about all the instances that Riza could've used the bullets on her gun to shoot him for the most heinous acts, but decided to reserve them for him not doing his paperwork instead. It caused a small smirk to spread upon the face of the Colonel as he shook his head out of amusement and continued on the work that he despised the most.

Scrawling his signature on a piece of paper felt like the most natural and the most boring thing to do. Usually, these papers contained neat, well-written and well-polished writings. It had neither a blemish nor a spot on the front or the back, top or bottom. Its plain, boring paragraphs were well aligned and the name was always neatly written at the bottom. However, that was not the case for one subordinate of his.

This supposed subordinate of his, a prodigy, never ceases to amaze him. Every time he sees this young midget's paper he can't help but be shaken awake by the unreadable, messy, and scribbled sentences. Blotches of ink sometimes smudged a whole word so badly that he had to hold up the paper and read the letters written behind the blotch of ink with the help of the light so he can understand. And worse, had he not known what his subordinates real name was, he would've mistaken the name written below as "Ecluarcl Elk".

"Fullmetal, what to do with you…" he muttered to himself with a sigh as he massaged his forehead with his left hand. With the other hand he picked up the phone that he, as memory serves it, brutally slammed down with great force for the past few years whenever he deemed the caller unworthy of a proper "goodbye".

"Hawkeye, I want you to call Fullmetal and tell him that I want to see him, pronto. And this time, pronto means now! Tell him that I will not accept excuses nor will I accept Alphonse Elric to serve as his emissary." Roy said immediately after he heard someone pick the phone from the other line, not even waiting for so much as a greeting from the person who answered it.

"Sorry, Colonel. This isn't Lieutenant Hawkeye, she's out buying herself lunch," someone answered from the other line.

"Who…? Havoc? Havoc, is that you?"

"That, I am. So you want me to call Fullmetal? Is that all you wanted to say?"

Roy heard a brief pause and heard a blowing sound, like someone releasing smoke. Oh wait, he forgot that this _was _Havoc.

"Or do you want me to pass him some of the short jokes too?"

"Tell him that if he does not show up, I'll beat his ass so badly that he'll need to replace _that _one with automail too!" said Roy, ignoring the comment from his subordinate.

"Ok then. I'll be back with him in about a minute or 2." Said Havoc, as the other line went _click_.

Roy could only put the phone back to the receiver and hope that Havoc will stay true to his words. He highly doubted that Edward will come without a ruckus though so he'd give it a good 10 minute wait before he expects to see either of the two blondes in his office.

He brought back his attention to Ed's report. Actually, it didn't look like a report at all. It was as if some kid had crumpled the paper several times before deciding that he might as well doodle on it too. It was quite gruesome to look at and it truly reflected how Edward was still very much like a child in some aspects.

Roy Mustang was not stupid. He knew that what Edward had gone through can't exactly be referred to as "A walk in the park" and though he had his share of terror in the battlefield, not to mention the brief want to perform the most forbidden alchemy, nothing could compare to what his subordinate had seen.

Human Transmutation.

It was the greatest sin anyone could make and sometimes people claim that it would be the most fatal and stupidest mistake of your life. Everyone knows that there is no equivalent exchange for the soul. Besides, try to bring back a human who already passed away and what are you doing?

…_Playing God, if there ever was one. You're messing with the natural balance of nature…_

Alchemists know that there is always a chain reaction for everything that they do. Alchemists know that the only way you can create something is when you have the materials you can use that would be equivalent to your target creation. Their science can be considered a miracle and sometimes a curse, the worst of its kind, but Roy knew that it was neither wonderful nor was it a God-given power…

_Just Science…Plain, old, simple Science…_

That was made to look like a miracle.

* * *

When Chase Fleming decided to join the military, his mother had this skewed idea that he did so because of either two things: a.) he wanted to follow his father's footsteps, or b.) he wanted to serve his country. To save his mother the heartache, he decided to lie and chose to tell her that he did it because he wanted to protect the poor and helpless people. That was totally bull shit, but society functioned on these little white lies. No, his actual reason was money.

Chase didn't really need it. His family had a lot of cash reserved. Whether it was hard-earned or stolen was never his business, but he knew that it was definitely locked up safely in a bank. Perhaps it was more about the pride that he could sustain himself without the money that his dead father had horded for him and his mother.

There was also a part of him that hungered for the power that the military provided. Most of the average citizens he knew joined the military for the same reason. Who could blame them, really? Their normal lives were far from wonderful. Sure, there were a few people who somehow convinced themselves day after day that they were content with what they have: a nice wife or an agreeable husband, a couple of kids, a dog in the backyard, and a house that was too small but still theirs. He scoffed at the thought.

Of course they were content. What other choice do they have apart from convincing themselves that they were satisfied? They couldn't do shit about it even if they tried. The rich, shrewd and frugal as ever, always took advantage of them and paid them the lowest wage possible. The average citizens themselves are no better. They all try to outdo each other in hopes that they wouldn't be the one fired from the job. It's just plain hell.

The military was the only way to get away from it all. Not very many people got fired in the Amestrian military. Granted, what did happen was that you fucking _died_ or you got "honorably discharged". The main thing was that everyone respected people who carried guns. Well, not really respect. Rather, everyone _feared _them.

"Fleming?"

Chase didn't bother to turn around to see who it was that called his name in the middle of his mental monologue. He'd figured that perhaps if he opted to ignore what's-his-face, eventually he would just go away.

"Fleming? _Chase _Fleming?" he heard someone say. This voice sounded a little bit familiar to him.

"Well, I'll be...It is Chase!"

Annoyed, he slammed down the glass that he was holding. He hated it so much when people used his first name. As far as he knew, in his very first year in the military, he made it quite clear that no one was allowed to call him "Chase". It was made even clearer when he pointed a gun to the head of one guy who called him by his first name 10 times just to see what Chase would do. Oh, he pulled the trigger alright. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that there were no bullets in his gun.

"Hey, Fleming...What the hell are you doing down here in the pub?" the bloke asked as he put a hand on Chase's shoulder.

"None of your God damn business."

"Woah, easy there, Chase. He was just asking."

This time, he looked up a bit to get a better look at the man who would no doubt be in the Obituary the very next day if he continued being a nuisance. His murderous intent lessened as he saw who it was. Chase turned back to his drink, suddenly disinterested.

"McKinney...I thought I told you not to call me by my first name."

"I thought I told you to call me Derek, _Chase_," was the man's amused reply, "By the way, this is 2nd Lieut. Nash."

Chase looked at the said man that Derek McKinney referred to. He nodded his head at the man, if only to show that he had at least acknowledged his presence.

"Quite a hot-headed young man aren't you, Fleming? Your subordinate never ceases to _amuse_ me," said 2nd Lieut. Nash, trying so hard but obviously failing to pretend like he wasn't affronted by Chase's lack of respect for his rank.

McKinney chuckled in response before offering to pay for a drink to his companion. Chase barely registered the next words that the two men exchanged as they both sat down on the stool next to him.

From a stranger's point of view, Colonel Derek McKinney might seem like an incredibly good guy. A lot of people are drawn to the man's deep baritone voice, and those intense green eyes. His charisma was undeniable. After all, when he came to Chase's town to recruit civilians for the military, he was mesmerized by the man's persona. With that deep voice and the smooth way in which he talked, he would make you feel like you were important, and highly indispensable. He could make you believe anything that he says. Hell, he could've sold useless things for a ridiculous price and people would buy it

Admittedly, Chase had once looked up to the Colonel as a hero and, occasionally, as a father figure. The funny thing was that after only two short years of being under his command, he realized that the kind and gentle Colonel was just one side to the proverbial coin. In fact, the real Colonel McKinney was far from what most people viewed him as.

Chase glanced briefly at the two men who were know having a heated discussion, but took the utmost precaution to keep their voices down. He had no idea what Nash would argue about with the colonel, but he knew his superior well enough to know that McKinney was talking about something that had to do with the Fuhrer. Well, more specifically, something that had to do with Fuhrer's plans of _expanding _Amestrian territory which probably meant that yet another war was at hand. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that told him that perhaps that was precisely what McKinney wanted.

* * *

Someone was rapping at the door or rather someone was trying to kick it off its hinges. The blonde alchemist, otherwise known by many as Fullmetal alchemist, could only respond with so much as a groan when a familiar voice called out his name. He stirred a bit, covering his whole body with the white, thin blanket, hoping that the annoying voice that was constantly yelling through the door was nothing but a dream…

_A very, very annoying dream…_

He let a few seconds pass before he yanked the blanket away from his lithe body. Ed looked around the room for a bit, looking for any signs of his younger brother in a tin can. A thoughtful frown crossed his childish features as he remembered that Al had gone to Risembool to visit Winry and Aunt Pinako. Of course Al, by his own decision, would've never left Edward alone in the dorms they were staying in. After all, being the faithful little brother that he was, he had stayed beside Ed for many years to know that Ed was not the kind of person to be left alone inside a small space.

Edward supposed that perhaps he could've rescheduled the visit that he and Al had promised to Winry, but after rescheduling each visit 3 times in the past already, Winry absolutely refused to give in. Hoping to avoid being greeted by flying wrenches the next time he sees Winry, he made a compromise instead. Since he still had some work to be done in Central, he sent Al to Risembool instead if only to appease Winry's unbridled fury. That wasn't the only reason why he conceded to let Al travel to Risembool though.

For almost the entire month, Al had been pestering him about that promise that they would visit Risembool. While Edward ackowledged that Al had tendencies to feel homesick even though he never really remembered their old home, he knew that there was a deeper reason behind all the times that he had been nagged and even occasionally being given the silent treatment to.

He'd known about his little brother's crush on Winry even before Al admitted that he saw the mechanic as more than a close friend. Dense as he may be when it comes to all that romantic hogwash, he was still observant and could put two and two together; and Al's infatuation was way too easy to figure out.

Before he could continue his speculations about his little brother's love life (seeing as he had none), a yell brought his attention back to the person on the other side of his door.

"Chief? Are you still alive in there?"

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, "I'm coming!"

He grabbed a white shirt and black shorts off the floor and put it on before making his way to the door.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Havoc?" Ed inquired as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Sorry, Chief. Colonel Mustang asked me to come and get you."

"And what the hell does the perverted Bastard want now?"

Havoc shrugged in response, "I have no idea. All he said was that I should come get you," Then he looked up to the ceiling and scratched the back of his head, as if he was trying to recall something else.

"I'm pretty sure he said something about automails and your rear end, too, but I can't seem to recall what...."

Edward slammed the door on his face before he can even finish the sentence. Unfazed by Ed's behavior, he simply said, "I'll be waiting for you

* * *

Maes Hughes leaned back on his leather chair with a content smile plastered on his face. Having finished half of the paperwork that was handed to him, he felt that he deserved his free time. He usually leaves his office to pay Roy a visit. Not that he enjoyed visiting Roy because he wanted someone to talk to. In fact, few words are exchanged between them while they were in Roy's office. No, Maes takes simple pleasures at seeing the Flame Alchemist rush to finish the work. The most entertaining part of it all is when Riza decides to pull out the gun and, well....

Today, however, he decided that he would be better off admiring the recent pictures that he took of Elysia and his wife Gracia. Roy and the others tend to avoid him at all costs because of these pictures and, truth be told, he understood why. He rarely cared about other people's pictures, too. Hell, he'd probably be annoyed if someone kept on pushing pictures of their family on him, too. See the thing that makes the pictures of a different family so uninteresting is that they don't have Gracia and Elysia in it.

He loved his girls to death and he wanted everyone to know it; He wanted everyone to see just how proud he was to be Gracia's husband; He wanted everyone to know how proud he was to be Elysia's father, and he wanted to make them see _why_.

Who wouldn't be impressed by the way his Elysia lit up whatever room she was in with nothing but a smile? Who wouldn't be mesmerized by Gracia's incomparable beauty?

Of course, he never told anyone about that and God forbid that he even mention this to Roy. He could just imagine his best friend teasing him that getting married softened Maes up. Either that or old age. He chuckled at the thought.

_rrrrrriiiiiinnnnnggggg!_

The sudden ring of the tone sobered him. He cleared his throat and put up the usual business-like tone, "Investigations department. This is Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking."

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," the operator's voice answered, almost difficult to understand because of the static, "Mrs. Hughes is on the other side of the line. Would you like me to patch her to your phone?"

"Yes, please." There was a moment of silence before he heard Gracia's voice.

"Maes, honey, you forgot your lunch at home…again," Gracia chided, although she sounded more like she was amused than angry about his forgetfulness.

"Did I now? I could've sworn I took it with me before I got out of the house."

"Would you like me to bring it over?"

He loved to eat the food that Gracia made, and that was why he preferred to bring lunch from home instead of having to endure the stale food in the cafeteria. Maes was actually looking forward to eating some of his wife's Blueberry muffins. With that in mind, he was ready to say "Yes" in the most enthusiastic voice he could muster, but then he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

It was Derek McKinney and Basque Grand walking together. Both men were looking straight ahead of them as if they were unwilling to discuss anything until they were sure that no one could hear them.

_How odd._

He rarely saw the Brigadier General hang out publicly with anyone whose rank was lower than his. That alone told him that whatever these two men will discuss it certainly wouldn't have anything to do with exchanging family pictures. Another thing was that Grand didn't even surround himself with some of his personal guards like he usually does. The fact that he was with McKinney didn't settle well with Maes, either.

Actually, as far as he knew, McKinney was generally known as a good guy. Obedient, loyal, charismatic, and his records were squeaky clean. Still, there's something about the man that just sends a chill down Maes' spine. He didn't know much about Lieutenant Colonel McKinney having no reason at all in the past to pay attention to such a man. That alone scared him. Perhaps he should've kept a close watch on the guy.

"Maes? Are you still there?"

The Lieutenant Colonel watched the two men turn left and out of sight before answering, "Yes….Yes, Gracia. I'm still here. Listen, about that lunch?"

"Yes?"

"It's alright. You don't need to swing by just to get me my lunch."

"But what will you eat?" she asked concernedly.

"I'll go out and get some food from this place."

"Oh…well, alright then. Just make sure you eat, ok? You know how cranky you get sometimes when you don't get your lunch."

He laughed a little at his wife's comment before saying goodbye, adding a sincere "I love you" at the end. As he put down the receiver, the smile was quickly wiped off from his face. The mirth he had felt while he was looking through his family's pictures was replaced by curiosity and perhaps a little bit of anxiety, too. He couldn't exactly pinpoint the thing that made him uneasy. All he knew was that he had to know what Grand and McKinney was up to.

_Hm…I should've followed them when I had the chance. No matter…_

Looks like he'll be paying Roy a visit after all.

* * *


End file.
